And it came to pass

that I puked all over the store, even Seagull Book & Tape, purveyor of discount LDS-themed books and tapes.
Just when I thought I was all done ranting from yesterday . . .

The first problem was that they were playing, at full volume so you make sure to hear and buy the book, one of those nauseating LDS fiction books that the clerks are paid commission to shove down your throat every time you walk in the door. It was being read aloud by a woman, who, bless her heart, didn't have much to work with, but even if she had, and even if the decibel level had been safe, I think her Relief Society voice would have made me go all queasy anyway. The cover of the book claims it's wonderfully witty, sidesplittingly funny, and action packed. I probably would have said it was mind-numbingly dull, and then proceeded to expend no further energy thinking up clever adjectives to describe this waste of a tree. I guess that's why they didn't ask me to review it.

After I got the bleeding under control (from my ruptured eardrums), I approached the clerk and informed her that I had an item to return. What I originally bought is none of your business, and it would take too long to explain. Also, it's not relevant to this story, except that it got me in the store. Suffice it to say that I was there to return an unfortunate mistake that really belonged somewhere else, and if I hadn't originally paid $15.99 + tax for it, that somewhere would have been the garbage. Sadly, my receipt was over thirty days old, so no go on the refund. Even lousy Target gives you sixty days, as long as you have a receipt. Anyway, she said I could browse around the store and choose something else to exchange it for. Just what I was hoping. I can never spend enough time in Seagull Book. Fortunately for me, there was another candidate who was most interested in purchasing a poorly-written novel, so she left me to my own devices while she filled the other customer's arms with books.

As I searched for something I could tolerate having in my home, the following phrase caught my ear: "He was sitting there, probably stoned out of his mind . . ." Then I tuned out again, mostly because I started wishing that I was stoned right out of my mind, or thinking that I had to have been stoned out of my mind to consider going there. I still have that prescription decongestant at home . . . Okay, one more: "His head was shaking like a bobble-head doll in an earthquake." Yes, I'll be very much surprised if Mr. Blair doesn't soon find himself the proud recipient of some kind of literary award.

So anyway, I looked around for a bit, made my selection from about three acceptable items, and proceeded to the counter; however, the clerk was in absentia. I found her, and I'm not even kidding here, in the back of the store sitting on the floor with the other customer amidst a pile of books, chatting animatedly about which "authors" they love. If Anita Stanisfeld's name had come up, I might have run screaming from the store. It didn't, I held myself together, and decided it might be a while, so I'd better wander a bit more. Lucky me.

That's when I saw it: "Dost mine eyes deceive me?" I gasped. "Can it possibly be true? Anne Geddes converted to the LDS Church?" My joy was slightly dampened when I found out that it was only one of her Sith Apprentices. Still, that's a good sign, too. I hastily set down my things and snatched up the book. I only had a minute to look through it, because I was afraid the clerk was going to come up and find me looking, and then force me to say something enthusiastic about it and possibly buy it, but I can tell you that my personal favorite photo was the two little girl babies dressed up in aprons with a bowl of Jell-o and a pan of funeral potatoes as props. The caption: Service. And that's when I puked.

The clerk was really nice about it, especially when I told her that I would be sending all my friends in to buy that book. I bought ten or twelve copies too. Just the ones that got a little bit of barf on them. I figured Seagull might have a hard time selling them, and no one will notice after I air them out a little. Wedding gifts, baby shower gifts, birthday gifts, missionary gifts . . . I'm pretty much all set for the year. Can you even wait to open your next gift from me?

Oh, and I bought the mummy book, too. I just had to find out what happened when he came down off his high and stopped shaking like a bobble-head, 'cause that's compelling stuff. And where does the mummy come in? Just remind me to return it within thirty days this time, please.